


Arizona Is Hot and So Are You

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Ice Play, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:50:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's stuck on bed rest after breaking some ribs, and it's way too hot in the motel room. Sam helps him cool down. I wanted to write some hurt!Dean fluff, it turned porny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arizona Is Hot and So Are You

When Sam gets back from the Circle K, Dean is spread out on the couch in just his boxers. Arizona in August is hotter than Sam has ever experienced, even after living in California for years, and as soon as he’s through the door he peels off his sweat-soaked shirt.

After using it to wipe the sweat off his damp body he chucks the shirt onto his bed and turns to look at his brother. Dean’s covered in sweat, drops rolling down his forehead, chest, and abs. His hair is soaked. The sunlight coming through the window across from the couch beams across his lean body. Sam has to wrench his gaze away, his stomach tightening.

Dean’s eyes are closed, but Sam can tell that he’s awake. His face is scrunched in annoyance.

“I thought you were gonna try to sleep,” Sam says.

“I _am_ trying. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s about a hundred and twenty freaking degrees in here. I had to stay awake to make sure I didn’t drown in a puddle of my own sweat.” He gestures to emphasis his point, then winces.

“Yeah, I talked to the front desk. They’re trying to get someone out here to fix the AC but the guy is pretty booked up.”

Dean groans and flops a hand over his eyes. “The thing I don’t get is how a motel in Arizona has managed to not figure out air conditioning yet. That’s basically the most important part. I’d rather have AC than a bed, right now.”

Sam snorts his agreement and walks over to the couch. He sees that the bandage that had covered the laceration that accompanied his broken ribs was rendered useless, no longer able to stick to Dean’s wet skin. Kneeling, he digs into his plastic bag.

“How are your ribs feeling? I got a big thing of ibuprofen, some beer and Coke, and about a ton of ice.”

Dean ignores his question, moaning contentedly and making grabby hands. Sam hands over a cold beer. Dean rolls it over his forehead, then around his neck. It leaves behind rivulets of water that mix with sweat.

“I think that’s for drinking, Dean.”

“Gimme an ice cube,” Dean grunts. Sam obliges, plopping an ice cube in his brother’s open mouth.

“Mmmm.” Dean motions for another drink. Sam hands him a Coke, and Dean starts to rub it over his stomach before Sam snatches it back.

“You are not going to rub all of our beverages in your sweat, dude.”

“But it’s hot,” Dean whines around the ice cube in his mouth, his eyes still closed.

“And you’re gross,” lies Sam, setting the Coke out of reach. He opens the bag of ice and dips his hands in, keeping them there until they’re almost numb. 

“That’s because my skin is going to melt off my body, Sammy, I can feel it.” He doesn’t bother to open his eyes and flails blindly towards Sam, trying to find something cold but only finding his brother’s bare chest.

“It’s ‘Sam,’” he says, and places his hands on Dean’s abdomen, spreading them wide so they cover as much space as possible. Dean wasn’t expecting it, and he lets out a small yelp that morphs into a moan. Under his freezing palms, Sam feels Dean gasp, feels his muscles twitch and spasm.

Trying to cool him down, he rubs his hands over Dean, but too quickly Sam can feel them losing their chill. He grabs more ice cubes, two for each hand, and starts moving his hands around Dean’s body, trying to cover as much skin as he can reach. 

Soon, Sam can feel himself getting hard from the noises Dean’s making, the minute shivers, and the shape of his muscular body underneath Sam’s hands. 

He replaces the ice and massages it over Dean’s chest, reaching his pecs, moving up to his shoulders and neck, dipping it into the curve in his collarbone. His brother’s face looks entirely blissed out, his eyelids fluttering against his cheeks. 

“ _Sam_ ,” he whimpers, a little breathless.

“Yeah?” Sam asks, touching the back of one hand to Dean’s forehead to get a feel for how hot he is. 

Dean whines again and tilts his head toward his lower body. Sam looks and sees that Dean is hard too, his cock making a tent of his boxers. 

Sam dips his hands back in the ice for a second then reaches into the boxers, wrapping his large hand around Dean’s cock. It’s even hotter than the rest of him was, and as Sam’s freezing skin closes over it Dean’s whole body jerks in response to the cold. 

After Dean winces a bit Sam reaches out to soothe his ribs, but sees that the muscles in his lower stomach are visibly shivering. He leans over and mouths at the skin there, licking a line of his brother’s sweat as he pumps his hand up and down Dean’s shaft.

Dean reaches out and grips the forearm of Sam’s other hand. When he looks over he sees that Dean’s eyes are finally open and his pupils are blown. He leans over and kisses him, his hand still working at his cock, twisting. His brother moans into him when Sam flicks a thumb over the head. 

Dean’s mouth is nice and cool from sucking on the ice, and Sam gets an idea. He pulls away and grabs another cube of ice, putting this one in his mouth.

“Oh,” Dean croaks, and grins in anticipation, pressing his head into the couch pillows. 

Sam leans down and takes Dean’s cock into his mouth too, sucking and licking and pressing the ice against it. The heat of his brothers cock and the room around him, the cold of the ice, and the power of his own arousal are intense and he loses himself in the sensation. It doesn’t take long for Dean to come, then, and Sam swallows it and the melting ice cube together.

He sits back and takes a look at his brother. Dean grins up at him drowsily, and in the water that covers his body Sam can see the trails his hands left behind. 

Dean tries to sit up, reaching for Sam’s zipper to return the favor, but grimaces and presses at his broken ribs. Sam pushes him back down onto the couch.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly and heads to the bathroom.

When he returns they crack a couple of beers, and Dean falls asleep before his is even halfway gone. Soon, Sam hears the air conditioning click on.


End file.
